Wolf and an Artful Search
by BashZeStampeedo
Summary: A reclusive artist has a run-in with a certain tired merchant and his companion. Spoilerish hijinks ensue.


"A fine day we're having today, isn't it?"

A head cautiously peeked around the corner of a building, hoping to get a better look at the conversation. Its owner knew one of the men, but the other was a rare traveler visiting her village. Villagers were often distrustful, yet Maddy's shyness came from apprehension. This village was remote enough that few visitors made the journey unless it was for a very good reason, and usually that reason was to find the individual whose head was now poking around the building.

"Oh my yes! Why, you'd hardly think it had been raining cats and dogs with this sun!"

A careworn smile spread on the traveler's face as he heard the old man's jovial reply. After all, he would have surely seen every cat and dog for himself on his way to the village. Maddy could tell he was a merchant from his clothing, bearing and wagon. Given the bags under his eyes he was also probably here for a very good reason. She watched him chat with the old man politely until they finally came to the point.

"So what brings you folks all the way out here to the middle of nowhere?"

Maddy's ears perked up. She had come to listen because she had faith in the old man's conversational skill. No matter how creaky the cogs in his mind had become over the years, his questions were always incisive. He had quite likely picked up his cheerful daft-sounding affect over a lifetime of dealing with travelers. It never took him long to size up a new guest, and Maddy was always listening in to determine whether they had come to find her.

"Well, we've been searching high and low for a certain artist, and rumor has it they were last seen in this village. You wouldn't happen to know anything about them, would you?"

Maddy tensed up. So it was true; another person had come hoping for a commission. Why must they always suck the joy out of her art by requesting the most drab and uninteresting works? Wildlife artists like her were quite rare, so it made sense they would be sought out. But there was nothing more tedious to her than drawing yet another lifeless image of a noble's pet, or yet another disinterested horse wishing it was elsewhere. That was why she had fled to the frontier.

"Hmm, you're not talking about old Lanzo are you? I hear he used to paint when he was younger. But wait... Lanzo died with the barking cough a few winters ago, didn't he?"

The old man trailed off mournfully as he spoke, in full control of the conversation. Few could bear bothering such an aged person after hearing that. Sure enough the merchant quickly changed topics, but unfortunately for Maddy it was to find a place to stay in the village. It seemed the travelers were too exhausted to turn back without resting. Indeed Maddy even felt a tinge of sympathy for the merchant when she heard a third voice calling out from his wagon.

"Make sure to find us a place with a chimney, you fool!"

A young woman possibly half his age had barked the order. The merchant flinched, then sighed as his shoulders drooped defeatedly. Even the old man had looked up like a dog that had heard a curious sound. The young woman huffed and turned away, proceeding to tinker with something in her lap. The merchant looked back at the old man and muttered "that's how it is." That won him a laugh and a pat on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, young man! We may be in the middle of nowhere, but we're not heartless! Come, let us find you a place to stay so you may recover from your wild goose chase."

Maddy's spirits sank. It seemed she would have to avoid these visitors after all. And just as the weather had finally turned pleasant again! Finding her muse had been quite difficult of late, and now she would be unable to paint lest the smell lead to her discovery. She cursed her luck and stared menacingly at the girl on the wagon. Had she whipped the tired merchant all the way out here, or was she cranky because he had dragged her along?

Whatever the case was, the girl was plainly aggravated. Maddy watched her fidget with whatever was in her lap, growing increasingly frustrated as the man climbed back onto the wagon. Was she knitting? People often used their time on the road for arts and crafts, but it was unpleasant no matter how skilled they or their driver were. Perhaps that was why she suddenly heaved a long-suffering sigh, and raised the object in her lap as the old man sat next to her.

To Maddy's surprise it was a decorative fur tail. Even more surprising was the fact that the girl was chewing on it as though grooming it. Maddy felt more apprehensive than ever. She fancied the girl was fussy and demanding, and her companion eager to do her bidding. It would be best for her to go home and avoid them altogether, so she slunk away from the corner of the building. She would just have to find some other way to pass the time until they left.

Perhaps she could find some paper that was not too damp and set ink to it. The sun was bright enough that her home should not be too dark. If only the travelers had arrived later in the day she could have enjoyed the sunshine, but then again she might have been caught painting outside in that case. She counted her blessings, but could not help wondering why anyone would ride through the night just to find her.

She contemplated that question as she trudged home, but it did nothing to improve her mood. The moment she opened her door she felt a strong desire to vent her frustrations. She searched her desk drawer for paper and ink, but to no avail. They had to be in one of the crates she had left unopened. It was an old habit born of having to move around to evade her pursuers, yet it had backfired this time. She clicked her tongue impatiently.

Eventually she found her ink and paper. Luckily the paper was dry enough to work with, but alas the same could not be said for her inkwell, which had been left open for a long time. The dreary substance within looked more like a caked-over pool of desert mud than ink. She slowly breathed in and out, doing her best to remain calm. With no vitriol to melt the ink, she would have to mix in some water and hope for the best.

Unfortunately her wash basin was as dry as the ink, and as if to spite her a hole had left her rain barrel empty as well. Her frustration finally boiled over. "How vexing!" she shouted, not caring whether anyone was around to hear it. She snatched her bucket and stomped to the town well with a terrifying frown on her face. Although her fellow villagers had grown accustomed to her moods, the same could not be said of the person she ran into.

As she turned the corner of the building next to the well, she suddenly found herself staring at the merchant. Not ten feet away from her, the shirtless man was anxiously looking up over his washcloth. The lines under his eyes were stretched out by his look of surprise; he had not expected such a wrathful greeting. He froze in place with water dripping off his chin while Maddy fumbled for something to say.

"Um, hello? And who might you be?"

She hoped her voice did not betray her frustration, but the man barely seemed to hear her anyhow. He suddenly gasped and hurriedly put his shirt back on his still-damp torso, then wrestled with his buttons for a moment before turning to face her. Although comically delayed, he still addressed her with the friendliest smile he could muster as he extended his hand.

"Kraft Lawrence, at your service! I've just arrived here on an errand."

Maddy had never seen a merchant in such disarray. She nervously denied his offer of a handshake, but nodded and put on a smile just as forced as his.

"I see. You must have been quite rushed to arrive here so early."

The best excuse he could offer was that he could not afford taking too long on his trip. Maddy stared at him as he floundered through his response. She was struck by his immense weariness. It was true that merchants often rushed from town to town, but he was beyond disheveled. Surely he had been the one dragged out to their village.

"Well, I daresay that you won't find much out here in the middle of nowhere."

The man chuckled.

"It seems everyone here feels the same way."

The atmosphere was so awkward that Maddy looked away nervously. Conversations did not come naturally to a recluse. It did not help that they were the only ones present at the town square. The merchant's wagon was conspicuously absent, as was his companion. She wondered whether he had been angrily sent to fetch some water, or if he had walked off on his own for a brief respite. By the time she looked back at him, he was ready to leave.

"Well, sorry for the delay. Please go ahead."

She watched him walk away as she drew some water of her own. He was clearly a lifelong traveling merchant; his clothes were not from any one region, and his torso was neither the chiseled one a career soldier would have, nor the paunchy one that all established merchants grew by their thirties. In fact he seemed like a perfectly average man whose only redeeming quality was his eagerness to work hard. Why on earth would such a fussy girl settle for a man like him?

Maddy chose to not dwell on the matter. She had drawn water without incident, and now she wished to draw on paper. Yet despite her eagerness to get home, it was difficult to do so without feeling like she was being watched. She was still skittish no matter how many years passed while she lived here. Hers was the curse of many an introverted artist: to be forever crushed under the weight of expectations.

She did her best to think positively. Given the merchant's reaction, it seemed that the old man had not told them anything about her yet. He would probably have invited them into his own home to keep an eye on them, so she was likely safe for the time being. Regardless, she took care to keep the water from spilling; she did not want to tempt fate by having to return for more. Her frustrations had yet to be vented, and she did not wish to add to them again.

Upon arriving she wet her dry ink and immediately began scribbling. First one small doodle of a wagon, then the horse bound to it, then a girl combing a tail. She had trouble drawing people's faces, so the girl's was left blank for now. There was much to detail first: the path, the hills, the rickety old fence the old man was leaning against, then the old man himself. His straw hat and boots were especially fun, yet his face was also left blank.

Lastly the merchant was added to the scene. The sharp lines of his outfit made for easy drawing, as did his jawline. Maddy spent as long as she could on his frazzled hair, but the time had come to finally fill in the faces. She breathed in and raised her pen, but then heard a sound. Something was scratching around inside her home. Goosebumps formed on her arm, and an ominous sense of dread gripped her.

"Who's there?!"

She leaped up from her chair and looked around, but no one was there. Nothing was audible now save her own heavy breaths. Was she hearing things? She searched her home carefully, holding her quill up like the world's least threatening dagger. It did not matter to her how ridiculous she must seem; she would rather be attacked than lose her mind. Mercifully her anguish was soon interrupted by the muffled sound of a familiar voice.

"You fool. I told you to pay attention."

Maddy cautiously peered outside her window and found herself spying on the couple from earlier. The window was as small as any other of the time, but she found herself wishing it was smaller still. The pair were walking down the lane, seemingly in search of something. The merchant vacantly scanned his surroundings as the girl alternately glared at him and peered into every corner. They were arguing.

"I told you I needed rest, but you didn't listen."

"And now you shall get none until we find her."

A rush of panic struck Maddy and she moved away from the window. She was practically hyperventilating as they passed by her home. Had the girl just said "her"? How could they have known that the artist in this village was a woman? Maddy had always used a male pen name, and only dealed with merchants whose livelihoods depended on them keeping such secrets. Everyone always left town when they heard that "old Lanzo" had already died.

"At least you could have let us eat something first! I'm starving!"

"Well that serves you right for dragging us all the way out here, does it not?"

Listening to them only disoriented Maddy further. Surely no man was dim enough to drag a girl like that out here, not just for a commission. There was no reason to seek Maddy out in the first place; others were more than willing to do the job. Her heart pounded as their voices trailed off. She simply was not made for this kind of stress. Even minutes later she would not budge an inch, despite feeling like she would burst if she did not channel her emotions.

The moment she moved she bolted to her desk and busily resumed scribbling. Before she knew it, she was drawing the faces of everyone who frustrated her. It was only at times like this that her artistic bravery manifested. The fat merchant who had discovered her talent, the lanky noble with the funny ears, the pompous baroness who could not accept anything short of her own definition of perfection... all of them became poignant caricatures worthy of a blush.

Her stress poured out onto the paper. It was not until she was drawing her fifth face that she finally rested her sore fingers, and even then it was only because she once again heard scratching in her home. She looked around; where was it coming from? It again stopped before she could find out. If rats had infested her home they were being very cautious indeed. She decided to try to fool her tormentors by drawing until the scratching began, and then stopping short to find it.

Yet the noises stopped each time she did, only to resume with her. Soon she was fuming. Any more of this and she would scream. Everything was testing her patience today. Why did she have to be cooped up in her home on such a beautiful day? What gave these people the right to hound and harass her? If she was losing her mind then it was all because of them! It was time to give them a piece of her mind! She stormed to her door, pulled the knob and-

"Ah, sorry! I can come back if this is a bad time!"

There was the merchant, with the same look of horror as he had worn earlier at the well. He pulled his hand back fearfully, as pale as a ghost. This time his aura of fatigue was so oppressive that all of the fight in Maddy was instantly drained. It looked like he might collapse at any moment.

"Um... n- no... how can I help you?"

"I'm actually looking for someone..."

Hearing that made her heart blaze up again for a moment. Why was he being so roundabout? Was he not looking for a female artist? She wished he would just get to the point so she could send him on his way. And yet, how could she do that now? He looked like he was at death's door. No matter what his purpose was, letting him in was the only decent thing to do.

"I see. Well, do come in. I can't have you languishing in my doorway."

She regretted her invitation the moment she turned back around and saw the papers on her desk. But it seemed the merchant was beyond such attentiveness. He stumbled his way in and immediately fell into her chair. She winced, wanting to scold him for treating her expensive furniture so roughly, but it gave her the perfect opportunity to cover the crates with her art supplies so she let the matter pass.

"Thanks, I haven't had a moment's peace in days. I really appreciate the invitation..."

He trailed off and blinked at her as if sizing her up. At first she felt nervous, but then realized he was trying to remember her name, despite the fact that she had never actually introduced herself to him.

"Just call me Maddy. That's what everyone around here calls me."

"Ah. Then thanks, Maddy."

The merchant smiled at her in appreciation, utterly oblivious to his situation.

"Think nothing of it. You do seem to be rather exhausted, Mr..."

Maddy's mind went blank. She had forgotten his name. How embarrassing! He had introduced himself at the well, but she had been so distraught that his name had gone in one ear and out the other. Yet he extended his hand to her as though he had even forgotten telling her.

"Lawrence. Kraft Lawrence, at your service."

It was bizarre hearing that from a man who had come to her for help, but this time Maddy politely shook his hand. What an odd encounter this was proving to be. He truly was too worn down for this right now... or so she thought.

"I must say that I'm glad I keep stumbling into you today. I was worried that you be hiding from me, Miss Maddy."

She flinched, but Lawrence quickly raised his hand.

"Whoa now! I don't mean to alarm you. I'm not here to drag you back to Gerube or anything like that."

Another cold sweat washed over her as he hastily explained himself.

"I've spoken with Hugh Athner about you, and I understand your reasons for wishing to not be disturbed. But I wouldn't go to such lengths if I didn't have a very good reason for doing so."

Maddy swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat.

"And what might that reason be?"

"To commission you, of course. You see I have a very important portrait that I feel only you can do justice."

Was he testing her? Surely if he had spoken with Hugh Athner then he would know about her artwork and her limitations as an artist. She could not tolerate mockery, so she flatly rejected him.

"I'm a wildlife artist. I don't do portraits."

"Ah, but I've seen your work and I'm convinced in your ability. I'm sure that just one portrait wouldn't hurt?"

Lawrence made a game effort of convincing her. He launched into a survey of all the things he liked about her artwork. It was simultaneously obnoxious and endearing; not only was he plainly unfamiliar with painting in general, but he was also struggling just to stay awake. He valiantly tried to articulate why he had chosen her, but ultimately it was all for naught. A wildlife artist drawing a portrait of a person? He could sooner get a silversmith to compose a hymn.

"I'm sorry that you came all the way out here, Mr. Lawrence, but there is no way I'll be able to honor your request."

"And I'm sorry, Miss Maddy, but I simply won't take no for an answer."

He sat in her chair with his arms crossed, clearly having dealt with stubborn artists before. Yet Maddy had the upper hand. He could not hold out indefinitely, so she was secure in her soon-to-be victory. It hardly mattered if he fell asleep in her chair. She would simply find the girl he traveled with, and have her drag him away. The girl seemed irate at having been forced here to begin with. She could deal with him.

"Suit yourself. You'll sooner get blood from a stone, Mr. Lawrence."

Maddy rose and turned away. She had already won, so she felt the least she could do was offer him something to eat. All she had to offer was some stale bread and pottage to dip it in, yet she suspected that would be enough. Lawrence did not seem like the type who would be picky or ungrateful, and once he had some food he would probably realize his quest was doomed. Then he would give up and go find someone better-suited for his commission.

However, she could not shake the feeling that they had forgotten to discuss something. Perhaps she should ask? She surreptitiously stole a glance at him, and nearly dropped the ladle in her hand. He had already nodded off. His head had flopped over and his arms lay in his lap. She was beside herself. Was he really such a haggard merchant that he would pay her a visit while at such an obvious disadvantage? Part of her felt guilty for winning this way.

She found herself eating the stew to ease her conscience. By the time she finished she was ready to get back to painting. There was nothing stopping her now, and the sun would be out for quite some time. Yet the moment she turned to face her desk she froze. Once again she heard the same scratching noises she had heard earlier. But this time when she tried to locate their source, she could not believe her eyes.

There was a tiny bundle of fur up in the rafters, carefully mincing its way forward. It must have somehow found its way onto her roof and then scratched into her home. That was what she had been hearing. The light near her roof was just dim enough that she could not tell what it was, but it was certainly not a rat. Whatever it was, it slowly crawled its way along the beam, working toward Lawrence. It froze when it finally caught sight of Maddy.

She watched as the creature instinctively tried to escape, but it could not back away; the rafters were too narrow. It struggled for a moment before realizing it was futile, then stared down and realized how high up it was. Finally it whimpered, and Maddy realized what it was: a puppy. It had found its way into her home only to end up completely trapped. At a loss, the shivering creature began whining and broke out into the tiniest howl Maddy had ever heard.

Lawrence twitched in his sleep, but its plaintive cries failed to rouse him. Maddy was unsure what to do. If she approached it, then it might slip and fall. She knew cats landed on their feet, but would a twelve foot drop be dangerous to a puppy? She bit her lip as it howled. All she could do was dash the moment she found the strength to move, and hope she could catch it before it landed. The moment she reached that conclusion, her door burst open.

Maddy quickly turned and found herself staring at none other than the young girl who was traveling with Lawrence. She seemed highly agitated as she scanned the building, but the moment she spied the puppy her shoulders dropped. When she then spotted the sleeping Lawrence, she let out a sigh of pure irritation. Maddy watched in stunned silence as the girl marched over to the rafter and held her arms up.

"So this is where you have been hiding?"

The puppy shivered as it stared at her, but it soon found the courage to leap. The girl quickly snatched it out of the air and held it in her arms before tugging the creature's ear. It recoiled and yelped, but that seemed to be more from fear of her wrath than from having its ear pulled. Yet it remained in her arms as though it belonged there, leaving Maddy completely perplexed. She watched the girl soothe the creature until it stopped shivering. Her attention then turned to Lawrence.

She stomped over to him and looked down in disgust. Maddy expected her to yank his ear as well, but instead she lifted his chin up as though to yell at him. Yet the moment she saw his peaceful expression her face softened. Her lip twisted, but she only wound up sighing again and letting his head fall back down. Seeing that, the puppy broke free of her arm and pounced into his lap. As it nuzzled its head against his open hand and whimpered, the girl's face soured again.

"Oh, do cease your whining. He is fine."

Maddy felt as though she was just part of the background in a dream that had manifested in her home. Just who were these mysterious people with the puppy? The girl finally seemed to detect her and turned around.

"And you!"

Maddy flinched at the girl's commanding tone, now understanding why the merchant had done so earlier. Yet it was not a look of anger that greeted her, but one of relief.

"Please bring me some of that stew. I am starving."

Maddy nodded and conducted a furtive search for her spare dinnerware. As she did, she glanced at her chimney and her heart sank. Her home was precisely the kind the girl had demanded to rest in. Maddy could handle one tired merchant, but certainly not two well-rested strangers. She was just as trapped as the puppy had been. In fact the girl was already clearing her desk for use as a dinner table, like she owned the place.

"I see the rumors of your skill are true."

Maddy's scribbles had finally been discovered. Her face flushed, but it was far too late to come up with any excuses now.

"For wildlife and landscapes perhaps. But I fear I'm vastly inferior when it comes to portraits."

"Nonsense. See? You got all three of that fat merchant's chins. And if this is supposed to be that fool over there, then you captured his beard perfectly."

Her face turned even redder, and she mumbled an indistinct response. There was nothing more excruciating than having people judge her unfinished work. Especially her silly little doodles. She could not believe that she had left herself open to such embarrassment.

"In fact, I think I see now why he dragged us all the way out here."

The girl's statement was casually ignored. Many a person had tried to butter Maddy up with praise, but they had all failed.

"I'm afraid I don't do very well with high expectations, either."

The girl raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? Then it seems you two have something in common."

She rudely pointed at Lawrence with her chin, then crossed her arms and sat down at the table. Seeing her nature for what it was, Maddy had finally begun to understand why the merchant was so exhausted. She looked at the puppy nestled in Lawrence's lap and saw that it too was falling asleep. There was something strangely alike about the two of them... something that Maddy could not quite put her finger on.

"That twit would not accept any of the artists the fat merchant recommended to us. Instead he spent a full day rummaging around in the man's collection, only to finally shout as though he had experienced an epiphany. Honestly! As if he could tell any better than an art dealer."

The girl pronounced her judgment with an infinitely frustrated voice, her elbow on the desk and her head propped up by her upturned hand. Maddy could not help but smile. It seemed the girl was the type who was so dishonest she would even frustrate herself. Perhaps she was confident in everything save her lover's business. And lovers they must be, for her to be so abrasive toward him.

"Well, they say that love does blind you to your lover's virtues."

For a moment the girl raised her head off her hand in surprise. Then she laughed melodically.

"They also say that talent blinds one to their own virtues, do they not?"

Her tone was provocative, but Maddy would not allow herself to be trapped again, like she had with Lawrence.

"Flattery will get you nowhere. I don't understand why you'd rather have me than a truly skilled portrait artist."

The girl puffed out a small snort-like breath, and looked back up at Maddy.

"How amusing. It seems you share more in common with that oblivious fool than I realized."

It was impossible to tell if the girl meant that as a slight or an honest insight. Maddy would have ignored it entirely had the girl not raised her chin in Lawrence's direction, prompting her to take a look. The moment her eyes fell on Lawrence, she instantly shot up to her feet. There was no longer a puppy in his lap. It had somehow become a child: a girl with a tiny fuzzy tail a pair of tiny fuzzy ears.

"Wh-what in the world?!"

Maddy was gripped by terror, but her reaction only evoked further laughter. She stood straight as a pole with her arms glued to her sides as that laughter subsided.

"Oh my! You even react alike! I suppose I shall have to spell it out for you."

As the girl completed her sentence, she slowly raised her hands to her head and began undoing her scarf. Two fuzzy ears soon flicked up from the girl's head. She then placed both of her elbows on the desk and set her head in her hands, grinning at Maddy triumphantly.

"Surely you did not think that he would drag us all the way out here if it was not for a special purpose?"

The girl stared at Maddy as her mind raced to fit all of the pieces together.

"I see... so that's why he thinks I would be the best one to draw your portrait..."

"Not mine, ours. As you said, we are lovers. And before you lies the product of our union."

Of course... they had not been searching for Maddy, but for their young daughter. Such a troublemaker was sure to run any dedicated parents down. And now it made sense why they would put up with such trouble in the first place: anyone so fussy about her own tail would not settle for just any artist for her family portrait. Despite her negativity, the merchant knew what she would accept.

All of the stories Maddy had heard in her childhood came flooding back. Tales of animal spirits cavorting with people were what originally inspired her to become a painter, and she had forgotten all about them until now. She slowly sat back down at the desk and studied the girl's features with keen eyes. Creative inspiration was welling inside her; she had finally found her muse.

"I suppose there's no way I can say no now, is there?"

"Certainly not. Unless you wish to pass up on this opportunity."

Whoever this girl was, she had seen right through Maddy. There really was no way for her to say no. A true artist would never pass up on a chance like this, especially when they were going to be paid for the privilege. Her mind was already envisioning how to best paint her subjects. In fact her courage had begun asserting itself. She could not resist upping the ante.

"Then I suppose there is really only one condition to settle on."

The girl raised an eyebrow as she continued staring Maddy in the eyes.

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"You must let me paint you in your true form."

The girl's mouth hung open for a moment in surprise, only to spread even wider and release the most joyous round of laughter yet. The toddler in Lawrence's lap whimpered, but Lawrence kept snoring. He would not awaken now, not for any negotiation in the world. Nor would his wife wish to rouse him just to close the deal. It had taken all of his energy to find the perfect artist for their family portrait; now he could finally dream about profits in peace.


End file.
